War-Shattered Hearts
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: After her husband's death overseas, Ginny learns that promises can be broken, and love and comfort can come from unlikely places.:: DracoGinny Muggle AU. Soldier!Draco, civilian!Ginny.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: A special thank you to Sam who inspired the soldier theme. For Kelly and Ash who made me want to really try my hand at this pairing. **

**Prologue **

They stand before her with their crisp, neat uniforms and eyes paid to care as they deliver the news. For all the sense it makes to Ginny, it could be in another language.

"We're sorry for your loss."

_No_.

"He served his country well."

_No_!

"Your husband was a hero, Mrs. Potter."

Ginny doesn't realize the glass in her hand has broken until she feels the burning sting in her palm. But she barely even notices it because what's going on in her heart hurts so much more.

"Mrs. Potter?"

"Get out..."

"We have a support group. It meets every-"

"Get out!" she screams over and over until they finally do, and she slams the door behind them.

Tears fall, and she tries to wipe them away, blood smearing across her freckled skin.

There had been tears the day that Harry had deployed. They had held each other tightly as they'd kissed, tears dancing on their tongues. She had promised to wait for him, and he'd promised to come back to her.

Life has a cruel sense of irony, she decides as she slings the vase her mother had given them for Christmas against the wall, enjoying the satisfying sound of something breaking just like her.

She had waited and waited like a faithful wife, never straying, always thinking of him. Now, he's coming back to her, just as he'd promised, but he's coming back in a box.


	2. Chapter 2

**Three weeks later.**

"Haven't you heard of knocking?" Ginny grumbles as her brother sits across from her at the table.

Having spent most of his life developing an immunity to her temper, Ron isn't remotely bothered by Ginny's tone. "We tried knocking," he says, grabbing a piece of toast from her plate and nibbling thoughtfully. "You wouldn't open the door."

"That should have been a hint," she mutters darkly into her coffee, refusing to look at him.

"We're all worried about you, Gin. You haven't gone out since the funeral."

Instead of answering, Ginny mechanically climbs to her feet, dumping her half-eaten breakfast into the bin and setting her dishes in the sink. This is her way of trying. She carries on alone, doing ordinary things because it's what she'd do if her husband were still alive. She pretends to be a real girl, and it hurts like hell.

"I'm tired," she says. "I think I'll take a nap."

Before she can move, Ron has her by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him. "This isn't _you_, Gin," he says firmly, desperation in his eyes. "You're the strongest person I know. Remember when Dad had his heart attack? You were only fourteen, and even though you were hurting like the rest of us, you were the strong one who told us it would be okay. Again and again, you said it until the nurse told us he would pull through."

"Ron..."

"You're stronger than this. I know you are."

Ginny opens her mouth, armed with a heated reply, but the words refuse to come out. She buries her face in her brother's chest, sniffling. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

OoOoO

The support group is the closest thing to a compromise they can find, and at five until six, Ginny finds herself in the recreational area of the church. She sees others lingering by a table filled with unappealing snacks and quickly ducks away before she can be roped into conversation.

With little choice, she takes a seat next to a blond man, eying him curiously. From the cut of his hair, his rigid posture, and the meticulously neat clothes he wears, she knows he's military right away. "Thought this was for civilians," she says.

He tenses but says nothing, grey eyes on the empty space in the center of the circle.

Twirling her wedding band absently on her finger, Ginny shifts in her seat until an older woman named Andromeda opens up, suggesting they all introduce themselves.

"Lavender."

"Parvati."

"Susan."

"Gregory."

"Jessica."

"Ernie."

"Draco."

It takes several seconds for Ginny to realize it's her turn. "Oh, Ginny."

Andromeda gives her a soft smile before launching into her story about losing both her husband and daughter in the war. As she speaks, Ginny can't help but to squirm. Support group or not, she feels as though she's intruding on their private grief.

The meeting carries on with little stories, plenty of tears, and far too many comforting words. When Andromeda finally suggests they close with the Serenity Prayer, Ginny is more than a little relieved.

OoOoO

"Is it always that awful?" Ginny asks the one who introduced himself as Draco.

The whole time, he'd looked just as reluctant to be there, and Ginny classified him as an ally.

"Usually," he agrees with what might be a smile as he pulls a cigarette from his jacket. "Sometimes it's worse. Parvati writes poetry. Do you know how many words rhyme with Dean? Most of them completely inappropriate in context."

Ginny laughs, and it's a dry broken sound. She doesn't remember the last time she's laughed. "So, I'm guessing your wife was military as well," she says.

Again, Draco tenses, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. "I knew your husband. Pain in the arse, but he was a good man."

For a moment, Ginny wonders how the subject has returned to her. Then, eyes wide with understanding, she realizes that he's just like her. Both are hurting, but neither really want to share their grief.

Before she can answer, Draco snuffs out his cigarette, placing the half-smoked thing behind his ear. "I guess I'll see you around," he says.

"I'll try not to write any poetry," she assures him with the softest of smiles.

Crooked grin on his lips, Draco turns, swaggering off, and Ginny notices for the first time that he walks with a limp.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you, everyone, for the reviews. I was little nervous about this, so I'm glad I haven't screwed it up. Also, a big thank you to the fabulous Paula who helped me figure out where to take this. Much love. **

.

"Private Harry James Potter."

Ginny takes several deep breaths as her husband's face flashes across the screen. Beside her, Ron gives her hand a gentle squeeze and whispers that he'd died a hero.

Ginny can't do it. This is supposed to be her fabled big step to normalcy, but she can't sit at this service and listen to a man who probably hadn't even served with Harry talk about what a noble man he was, the same way he'd talked about the seven other fallen soldiers moments before.

"Excuse me," she whispers, climbing to her feet and bolting from the auditorium.

She wants to go home, but Ron and Hermione won't be ready to leave yet. They'll say that this is good for her, that what she's feeling is normal.

"I don't want to be normal!" she shouts at the air, kicking the picnic table before her.

"That's good," comes a familiar drawling voice behind her. "Talking to yourself isn't exactly normal, after all."

Ginny turns, eyes narrowing at Draco. "Who asked you?"

"No one," he says, leaning against the table and tucking a cigarette between his lips.

"Damn right no one did," Ginny says sharply.

She softens slightly. It isn't Draco's fault that Harry is gone. He's just a convenient target. "I'm s-"

"Don't apologize. You're angry. I understand. It isn't fair, is it?"

"No. It's not," Ginny agrees, looking down at her feet.

"Well, Potter, life isn't fair. It's one of the first things the military teaches you. The second is that you're supposed to suck it up and deal with it."

Ginny wants to snap at him, to tell him to sod off. But she can't bring herself to do it. Draco is right, and he's blunt about it. There's no tiptoeing around the matter like her family and friends do, only a simple, harsh fact. Maybe it's exactly what Ginny needs.

"Are you sucking it up and dealing with it?" she asks.

His expression grows grim. "Something like that."

The doors to the auditorium open, and people begin filing out. Ginny guesses the service is finally over.

"I should go," she says, turning away.

Draco catches her wrist. "Look, if you need someone to talk to...I'm not exactly good with this, not the way Aunt Andie is, but...I know what you're going through, okay. Don't be a stranger."

Ginny nods, not really sure if she means. "Right. Thanks, then," she says awkwardly before ducking into the crowd to find Ron and Hermione.

OoOoO

Ginny sits at the dinner table that night, forcing herself to smile through the weekly family dinner, even if she doesn't feel it. She remains quiet as everyone talks about their week and any important news. If she speaks, she knows she'll only make it awkward.

"And then, he says, if you can believe it, 'Perry, you've been a marvelous asset to the company. How do you feel about becoming CEO?'" Percy says. "Mind, I hope they'll put the right name on my office door."

Ginny stabs at her chicken, picking it apart, forcing a laugh along with the others. If she pretends, they won't try to get her to participate, she hopes.

"Ginny, dear," her mother says, shattering her hope. "Ron told us you attended the ceremony today."

"That's a big step," her father says proudly.

Ginny nods mutely. Avoid talking. They'll stop.

"And she's been going to group," Ron supplies, earning a glare from his sister.

"How's that going?"

"Okay."

"Okay?" Fred laughs. "Blimey, sis, tone down the details. It's too much."

Ginny rises to her feet, fake smile still in place. "I need to go," she says. "I told a friend I'd stop by."

She expects them to protest. Instead, her mother simply nods. "So nice to you're going out, honey," she says. "It's good for you."

Ginny says a quick farewell, distributing hugs across the table before slipping into the living room and searching the phone book for Draco Malfoy.


End file.
